


Is This Real Life?

by shanahane



Series: The world where Bruce went to therapy [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Altenative Universe - No Capes, Batbrothers (DCU), Batfamily (DCU), Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Bruce went to therapy instead of becoming Batman, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Family, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, no beta we die like jason
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 10:33:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28616637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shanahane/pseuds/shanahane
Summary: At some point or another, all of Bruce's four sons have to have their wisdom teeth removed. It's a different experience with all of them.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Wally West, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne & Damian Wayne
Series: The world where Bruce went to therapy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2096913
Comments: 41
Kudos: 626





	Is This Real Life?

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS FOR:  
> Probably inaccurate medical terms and information  
> Jason's language  
> Minor scenes with blood  
> Wisdom teeth removal
> 
> Also, I didn't proof read this.

Tim is, surprisingly, first. 

As soon as he’s given the right to make medical decisions on Tim’s behalf, Bruce takes Tim to the same physical examination that Dick and Jason had once been forced to sit through as well. Leslie declares him healthy enough, if not a little on the small side. Then she takes a quick look at Tim’s mouth and says: “Take this boy to the dentist _now_.”

And because Bruce is who he is, he is able to take Tim to the dentist _now_. A couple of phone calls later he has an appointment where the dentist declares that Tim’s wisdom teeth should have been pulled ages ago. The nurse tells Tim he’s being so brave and worries about how much pain he must have been in. 

Tim merely shrugs while Bruce has to turn away to take a deep breath or two. He almost hopes he will one day get a chance to land a punch on certain people. 

Bruce holds Tim’s hand through the procedure which Tim later proclaims to be just uncomfortable. It’s rather disgusting to watch, but Bruce keeps chattering mildly interesting trivia in an effort to distract the boy. The teeth come off ‘nice and easy’ and it’s not long before Tim’s told to just rest for the day if not two. 

Tim, doped up in painkillers, smiles at the ceiling and does not reply. 

“This city is so big,” he says once they are in the car, driving through the city in the afternoon rush. 

“It is, isn’t it?” Bruce says back. 

“How was it even built?” 

“That’s…”

“Maybe aliens did it,” Tim cuts Bruce off. “Yeah. Aliens.”

“Sure buddy,” Bruce chuckles. “No, no, no, don’t touch your mouth.” 

“Ugh,” Tim groans. “What happened to me?” 

“Your wisdom teeth were pulled out.” 

“But I need teeth to _eat_ ,” Tim says. 

“Not these teeth. It’s okay. They were just causing you pain,” Bruce tells him. Tim’s head lulls from one side to the other as he frowns. “Are you feeling okay now?” Bruce asks though he’s pretty sure he will get a rather interesting answer. 

“I might be an alien, too.”

He was right. 

“Oh yeah? Where did you come from?” 

“I don’t know. Why am I in a car?” 

“We’re driving home from the dentist,” Bruce says patiently, unbothered by the quick change in topic. 

Tim’s frown deepens. “I don’t want to go home.” 

It takes a moment for Bruce to realize Tim means the Drake residence. “Home the Wayne Manor,” he says which causes Tim to blink and actually look at him.

“You mean where Jason lives?”

Bruce smiles. “Yeah, exactly.” 

“Jason is so cool. Have you met him?” Tim asks. 

“We’re acquainted.” 

“He is the coolest. Except… except…” 

_Dick?_

“...Dick, maybe?”

 _Bingo._

“Maybe they’re both the coolest?” Bruce suggests. 

“That’s confusing.” 

“Is it?” 

Tim makes a frustrated sound. Then he suddenly grins like he’s come with a solution. “I like Alfred.” 

Bruce has a really hard time keeping a straight face. He’s not going to be one of those parents that film their child’s most vulnerable moments but he is sorely tempted. “I like Alfred, too,” he says. 

“You know him?” 

“I know him very well indeed.” 

“Oh. Wow.” 

“Mmhm.” 

“I like you as well,” Tim says. His tone is very matter-of-fact. 

“Thank you. I like you very much, too,” Bruce replies. 

“My parents don’t like me.” 

Bruce’s hands squeeze the steering wheel a bit tighter. His tone is still very flat and he doesn’t sound at all disturbed. It’s like he’s stating a fact, which, unfortunately, is probably the case but it’s almost more heartbreaking that he doesn’t sound upset. 

“They won’t share.” 

“Hm? What?” Bruce asks. He shakes his head a bit to come back to the present. 

“They won’t share. I want to ask. But… they won’t.” 

Tim’s not making much sense to Bruce but he pretends to understand: “I’m sure they will, buddy.” 

“Nooooooo…” Tim groans. “They… They _deserve_ you.”

Oh. 

Oh. 

Oh, okay. 

“Tim. Buddy. Dick and Jason already agreed to share me.” 

“...huh?” 

“Remember? You live with us now. You are part of the family. And they are happy about it. They are waiting for us right now.” 

Tim clearly does not remember at the moment. Bruce almost panics when he sees that boy’s eyes well up. “Really?” 

“Really.” 

“But… but…” Tim slumps back on his seat, perplexed. “Is this real life?” 

Bruce will _not_ be one of those parents. 

He won’t.

Dick and Jason are indeed waiting for them at the Manor. They look amused when Tim exclaims “I really live here??” but, like the good older brothers they are, do not make fun. The youngest stumbles a little when he tries to take off his shoes, which causes Dick to catch him with “whoa, there, little brother, let me help'' which in turn causes Tim to practically wail. Bruce manages to calm him down by saying: “Hey, remember? We talked about this. You’re part of the family now.” Jason hurries to assure Tim that it’s true. “Never wanted to be the youngest anyway,” he says and as a perfect contrast to the distressed wail, Tim giggles. 

The living room couch is all nice and ready with what looks like all the blankets that they own and there’s a pile of movies for Tim to choose from on the coffee table. The three brothers end up in a pile under the blankets with cups of Alfred’s home-made pudding, an icepack on Tim’s cheek, and a movie Bruce doesn’t recognize playing on the TV. It’s the perfect, safe place for Tim to come down from his high. 

Bruce attempts to review the daily report but ends up glancing at his sons so often that after an hour, he puts the papers on the side table and lets himself enjoy the calm that, after taking Dick in, has become quite rare in the Manor. 

Not that he’d have it any other way, he thinks as he watches his three boys laugh at something a cartoon sloth says on the TV. 

  
  


Jason’s next. 

It’s three days after his routine check-up that Jason finally shows Bruce the note that says ‘the lower right wisdom tooth needs to be removed’. They recommend a more extended surgery under general anesthetic instead of local, as apparently the root of the tooth is entangled in the nerves of Jason’s jaw. Bruce promised to make the appointment, Jason nods shortly and shuts himself in his room. He doesn't even come down for dinner. 

Tim says: “Maybe he’s afraid of the dentist,” and Bruce knows it’s supposed to be a joke but something clicks and he excuses himself from the table. 

“Jason?” he calls as he knocks on Jason’s door. “I’m coming in, Jason.” 

The door is unlocked and Jason doesn’t immediately yell at him to leave as he enters. He’s sitting with back against the headboard of his bed, reading a well-read copy of The Hobbit. Bruce sits down on the edge and gives Jason a chance to tell him to ‘kindly bugger off’ (a phrase Alfred taught him to use instead of ‘get the fuck out’). 

He doesn’t, so Bruce asks: “Are you scared of the dentist?” 

“No,” Jason denies immediately. “I went today, didn’t I? All by myself, like a big boy.” 

“Today was just a check-up,” Bruce says. “Having your wisdom tooth pulled out is…” 

“I know,” Jason interrupts him. “I’ll be fine.” 

“You don’t have to go alone this time, you know. Someone needs to drive you home anyway. I know I can’t be there for the surgery itself but I’ll be there when you fall asleep and when you wake up.” 

Jason scoffs. “You’re Bruce Wayne, as if they’ll deny you anything. They’ll probably roll out the red carpet.” 

“If only that were the case,” Bruce says. 

He doesn’t prompt further. He knows that with Jason, waiting for him to share willingly is always better than to demand answers. He allows Jason to pretend to read even though he can see that Jason’s eyes are not moving. 

“I’m not scared of the dentist,” Jason finally says. “It’s the… it’s the surgery part.” 

“They say there’s less of a risk that…” 

“I know, I know, and I don’t want my jaw to be numb for months,” Jason says. “It’s just… Fuck, it’s so stupid.” Bruce let’s the profanity go unheard. “When I was younger, before you took me in, I… I watched this documentary once. About people and their most unpleasant experiences ever. One of them woke up during surgery. She said it was like waking up in a coffin. She couldn’t open her eyes so it was dark but she could hear everything. I had nightmares about it for months.”

“So you’re scared of the anesthesia,” Bruce clarifies. 

“Not exactly,” Jason mumbles. “I’m not scared of the falling asleep part. I’m scared of waking up when I’m not supposed to.” He sighs. “I told you it was stupid.”

“It’s not,” Bruce tells him. “I suppose telling you that waking up while under anesthesia is extremely rare will not help?” 

“People who are scared of flying are always told that flying is the safest way to travel but they’re still scared, aren’t they?” Jason says. “It’s called anesthesia awareness, by the way. I looked it up.” 

“Huh. I did not know that.” 

“It also said that the patient doesn’t usually feel pain.” 

“Usually.” 

“Exactly. So there are cases when a patient does wake up and feels pain. I’m not even scared of pain! I box, for fuck’s sake! I just can’t stand the idea of being in pain but also helpless.” 

“Jason, you…” 

“I know, I know, I’m being ridiculous.”

“I was not going to say you’re being ridiculous. You’re not,” Bruce says firmly. “I was going to suggest that you talk to Dick or Tim. Or even Alfred. They’ve all had some sort of surgery. As far as I know, they all slept through it but maybe they can give you some insight?” 

“I don’t want them to know.” 

“They won’t think any less of you.” 

“Won’t they?”

“You know they won’t.” 

Jason shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know. I feel like I’m being a baby.” 

“I don’t think so. And neither will they.” 

“Mm.”

“Think about it,” Bruce says. “And come to eat. Alfred made his famous chicken.” 

Bruce counts it as a victory when Jason follows him to the dining room. His mood is still apparent on his face so Tim, wisely, doesn’t comment on his previous absence but continues to eat. Bruce takes his seat as well and makes small talk with Tim about his school projects while Jason nibs at his meal.

Tim is just about to leave the table to do homework when Jason asks him about his surgery experience. Tim blinks, clearly caught off guard but says: “Uh… I don’t remember much. They told me to count down from 100 and the next thing I knew, I was in another room and it was four hours later.” 

“You didn’t… feel anything? During the surgery?” Jason asks. 

“No, of course not, I was under anesthesia,” Tim says. “I think the most disturbing part was not remembering falling asleep. It’s not like when you fall asleep at night, it’s so sudden and it’s like time passes more quickly. It took Bruce a while to convince me that the surgery was really done.” 

Jason nods slowly. Tim seems to realize that there’s something deeper about Jason’s questions. He glances at Bruce who inclines his head slightly to prompt him to say more. 

“It’s not scary,” Tim says. “And Alfred will dote on you for days.” 

“Quite right, young sir,” Alfred, who has just come in with Bruce’s tea, confirms. He doesn’t chime in with his own experience, knowing Jason will ask if he wants to know. 

“I bet we can get Dick to come home, too. He’d never miss a chance to give you a good cuddle.” 

The last part is clearly meant to be more of a joke and Bruce is surprised that Jason doesn’t immediately shoot down Tim’s suggestion. He makes a mental note to call Dick later. 

“Seriously, Jason, don’t worry about it.” 

“I don’t,” Jason grunts, and sure, it’s partially true. 

“Sure. Well. I’ll be in my room doing homework.” _If you want to talk more_ goes unsaid but Jason gives his brother half a smile as a reply anyway. 

Jason makes it clear he doesn’t want to talk about the matter anymore, so they spend the days leading up to the surgery talking about anything else. When the day arrives, Jason doesn’t protest when Bruce excuses him from his morning classes and takes a day off from work himself. 

The drive to the dentist is silent. They don’t really talk while they wait either. Bruce hates to leave Jason with his thoughts, as they are surely not pleasant but knows better than to attempt conversation. It would be like poking an agonized bear. 

As they prepare to take Jason to the surgery, it’s as if years come off Jason’s age and he seeks out to squeeze Bruce’s hand. Bruce squeezes back, assures his son that everything will be alright and that he’ll be there when Jason wakes _after_ the surgery is complete. 

Five minutes later, they wheel Jason away, leaving Bruce with nothing but time to wait. He knows it’s a safe, routine surgery but sue him, he still worries. He can’t concentrate on the magazines or his phone so he just leans his head back and stares at the ceiling. Tim arrives at some point, says ‘Alfred dropped me off’ and Bruce decides not to say anything about the classes Tim will miss. 

And so together, they wait. 

Jason wakes up with a small moan. Bruce is by his side in an instant, to make sure what Jason sees is a familiar face instead of hospital equipment.

“Hey, Jaylad,” he says when Jason opens his eyes. “How are you feeling?” 

“Uhhh…” says Jason. “B.” His words are muffled as his mouth is clearly still numb. 

“Yeah, I’m here.” 

“B. Bruce. B-man.” 

A smile tucks the corner of Bruce’s mouth and he hears Tim snicker behind him. “Do not film this,” he says to Tim who holds up his phoneless hands. 

Suddenly, Jason chuckles. “It’s _weird_.”

“What is?” 

“Bruce Wayne. In _my_ room.” Jason’s drugged up mind apparently finds this very amusing. “Mine. The street rat and the King.” 

“Don’t call yourself…” 

“We’d make a great movie,” Jason says. 

Bruce sighs. “Sure.” 

“I call Bruce Wayne B-man. That is… that is just…” 

What it is exactly, Bruce will never know, because just then a nurse comes into the room. She seems to capture Jason’s attention and he attempts to lift his arm to snap his fingers, but only manages a pitiful wave. 

“Hey. Hey, nurse.”

The nurse, bless her heart, smiles widely, clearly used to people who have just woken up from anesthesia. “Yes, dear?” 

“This is Bruce Wayne,” Jason says. “Where’s the red carpet? What kind of hospital is this?”

Tim is full-on laughing now. 

When they get home, Bruce is not surprised to find Dick ready with a pile of blankets, pudding, and that movie with the sloth. 

  
  


Damian is third.

The one actual advantage of money is that Bruce can afford to hire people to do things for him. Like, go abroad to meet important clients. His boys know that he will only leave the country for work when it really is necessary like when his employee’s wife goes into premature labor and Bruce is not the kind of boss that would force the poor man to still travel to the other side of the Atlantic Ocean. The client refuses to meet anyone else, except of course Bruce Wayne himself, and if they lose this client, they might have to shut down an entire division which means Bruce might have to fire people and…

“It’s okay, Father. You don’t have to explain your importance to me,” Damian says to cut off Bruce’s explanation. 

“I am scheduled to come back before your appointment,” Bruce says. “It’s not urgent, though, we can postpone it if…” 

“That’s unnecessary. If you’re delayed, I’m sure Pen… Alfred can take me.” 

Even after three years under Bruce’s roof, the strict upbringing Damian’s grandfather insisted on during Damian’s earliest years still shines through sometimes. Especially when he’s uncomfortable, like now. He’d deny it vehemently if anyone ever asked, but new experiences tend to make him jittery, more so if they are unpleasant. Bruce’s heart breaks a little at the determined look on Damian’s face but decides not to shatter the boy’s pride by rescheduling the appointment despite his protest. Instead, he does the next best thing. 

“How about I call Dick? Ask if he can take you if I don’t make it back in time for some reason?” 

Damian’s expression relaxes, ever so little. “If he’s willing and available, I guess that’s acceptable. I’m sure Alfred has other duties to attend to.” 

“I’m sure he does,” Bruce says as he takes out his phone. 

Dick answers on the first ring. “ _What’s up, B_?”

“Hey, uh… I have a favor to ask.” 

“ _Sure_.”

“Any chance you’re free on Thursday?”

“ _Let me check.”_ Dick hums a tune while supposedly checking his calendar. _“I have a morning class to teach but other than that, free as a robin. Why?_ ” 

“Jack’s wife went into labor, so he can’t go to the London negotiations. It will have to be me. I am due to arrive really early on Thursday morning but in case there’s a heavy delay, could you take Damian to the dentist after school? He’s having his wisdom teeth pulled out.”

“ _Ugh, that sucks._ _But yeah, of course. No problem_ ,” Dick says. 

“Thanks. I’ll see you on Thursday, then.” 

“ _Bring me one of those huge Toblerone bars that they sell in Duty Free_.”

“You know you can buy those from any decent grocery store, right?” 

“ _It is absolutely not the same thing. I can taste the difference._ ” 

“I highly doubt it but sure, yeah, I’ll try to remember.”

“ _You do that. Bye!_ ” 

“Bye.”

With that settled, Bruce sends Damian to school the next morning with less guilt than he thought he would. 

The guilt comes back full force on Wednesday when the weather in London turns from gloomy to a biscuit short of doom’s day. 

Bruce taps his leg nervously, checking the departure screens in the First Class Lounge yet again to confirm that his flight is indeed still just delayed instead of canceled. He knows it’s stupid to chastise himself for not flying private, as no money in the world could change the weather. Still, he thinks as he chews on what is supposed to be Dick’s Toblerone, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about the flight being canceled, he’d just have to wait until the weather cleared enough for his Wayne Jet to take off. 

Two hours and the entire Toblerone bar later, the departure screen flashes and the next thing Bruce sees is CANCELLED written in bright red next to his flight. He groans and gets up, familiar with this procedure from when he used to travel more often, and heads to the ticket office. Just briefly, he wonders if he should call in that favor the Justice League owes him. Surely they have something that could fly through a hurricane. 

He doesn’t call the Justice League. He’s given a hotel room for the night and a seat on the next possible flight. Even with the time difference working for his benefit, Bruce knows he probably won’t make it back in time for Damian’s appointment. He doesn’t allow his annoyance to show until he’s alone in his hotel room, where he immediately calls Damian. 

His son doesn’t pick up and a quick glance at the clock tells Bruce that Damian’s in his fencing class. He calls the Manor’s landline next and to his surprise, it’s Dick who answers. 

“ _Wayne Manor, to whom am I speaking?_ ” 

“It’s me,” Bruce says, almost amused at Dick’s proper tone.

“ _I know, we have caller ID,_ ” Dick says, laughter in his voice, as always. “ _You’re stuck, aren’t you?_ ” 

“Yeah _,_ ” Bruce sighs. “I got a new flight for tomorrow. Hopefully, the weather clears by then.” 

“ _If it doesn’t, it’s not your fault,_ ” Dick tells him.

“Hm.” 

“ _It’s not. It’s the weather!_ ” 

“Why are you in the Manor?” Bruce asks to distract his son from his guilt complex. 

“ _The weather there is horrible enough that they mentioned it on the news. I figured Damian could use the company. I’ll drive him to school tomorrow before my class starts. I’ll try to keep his mind preoccupied._ ”

Bruce really, really loves his children. Sometimes, like now, he loves them especially much. “Thank you.”

“ _No worries. Did you buy the Toblerone?_ ”

Bruce thinks of the empty wrappers he left in the Lounge’s trash bin. At least now he can buy a new one tomorrow. “Of course.”

“ _Cool! Now, enjoy the extra night with no kids. Order room service, watch a movie that you actually like, go to sleep early. Think of it as a one-night vacation_ ,” Dick advises him. “ _Damian will be fine, whether you’re here or not.”_

“Is he upset?” 

_“I haven’t seen him today yet, so I have not been able to tell him. I think he will be, a little. Not at you, though. He might cast a curse on Mother Nature but you know he’s too smart to be angry at you.”_

“He is a child. I’d almost prefer it if he wasn’t able to be so rational.” 

_“Maybe. But, hear me out: How about this time, you just accept his rationality and be happy that he won’t be angry at you?”_

Bruce sighs. “I guess you’re right.” 

_“I’m always right. Now, I gotta go pick him up from fencing. I’ll see you tomorrow! Don’t bribe anyone to fly you back if the weather turns worse, okay?”_

“I won’t.” 

_“Good. I bid you farewell for now, then.”_

Dick hangs up before Bruce has a chance to reply. Bruce sighs again, drops his phone on the bed, and contemplates what to do. A few minutes later, he decides to follow Dick’s suggestion and opens the room service menu. He orders himself a plate of pasta and a coke but finds himself almost gagging when the front desk asks about dessert. 

He’ll never eat Toblerone again. 

The next day, he’s at the airport three hours before his new flight is due to leave and he still totally forgets about buying another one of those ridiculously sized candy bars. He doesn’t remember until he finally sits down on his seat and is able to relax a little as he watches the ground handling staff load the plane. He gives himself a mental kick but reminds himself that the important thing is that he’ll be on USA soil right around the time Damian’s appointment will end. 

Alfred is waiting for him in the arrival hall when Bruce steps through the doors 10 hours later. He gets a message from Dick saying ‘all done!’ with a picture of Damian looking quite dazed in the back seat. Bruce takes a quick look at his watch and tells Alfred to make a detour to the Target on the way home. He dashes out of the car as soon as Alfred parks, goes directly to the candy section, picks out a new Toblerone bar, and is out two minutes later. He barely notices the deep blush on the cashier's face. 

He apparently makes it home just a moment after Dick and Damian do, as Dick is still wearing his coat when he comes in. “How is he?” he says as a greeting and Dick grins. Widely. 

“See for yourself. He’s in the living room.” 

Bruce hands him the Toblerone bar (‘oooooh, thank you!') and heads for the living room. Damian is lying on the couch in a very familiar-looking pile of blankets, his hand in the air drawing circles. He turns to look at Bruce when Bruce enters and the most radiant, happy smile appears on his face. 

“Dad!” he exclaims and Bruce has to stop to blink. “You’re _home_!” 

“Yeah,” Bruce breathes out. He closes the distance between himself and the couch and kneels down next to it. “How’re you…?” 

Before Bruce can finish, Damian’s arms are around his neck. “I _missed_ you!”

Bruce pats Damian on the back. He hears the phone of Dick's camera go off and turns to glare. Dick says: “I swear I won’t even show Wally,” and Bruce believes him.

“I missed you, too,” he tells Damian. 

“Did you meet the Queen?” 

“No. Not this time.”

“You’re home now.” 

“Yeah.” 

“That’s good.” Damian pulls himself away from the hug but the wide smile is still on his face. His teeth are a bit bloody and Bruce can see the gauze in his mouth. “I really missed you.” 

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Bruce says, even though Damian doesn’t sound upset. 

“It’s okay. Dick’s a good brother,” Damian says and the look on Dick’s face could light up the whole of Gotham for three years. “Guess what?” 

“What?” Bruce asks and leans forward because Damian is whispering. 

“Dick says we can have pudding!” 

“Dick’s right,” Bruce confirms. “Alfred is excellent at making pudding.” 

“Alfred is excellent at everything,” Damian says seriously. Bruce may or may not see a rather smug expression on the butler’s face. “Join me?” Damian says then and lifts the blankets.

“Let me go get off my coat,” Bruce says. “I’ll be back in a flash.” 

“You’re quoting Wally,” Damian giggles. _Giggles._

Once again, Bruce is very tempted to take out his phone. Instead, he shrugs off his coat and goes to take it to hang it in the closet. 

A while later, he’s piled under blankets with Damian practically in his lap and Dick leaning against his side. They’re again watching that movie with the sloth but this time, Bruce actually pays attention. He and Damian have cups of pudding but Dick declines in favor of his giant chocolate bar. 

“Hey!” Dick says just as the sloth tries to climb up a mountain. “This is not from the airport!” 

Bruce refuses to either confirm or deny, just hugs Damian closer.

  
  


Dick is the last and… the most upsetting. 

Mr. Haly actually warned him, when he first took Dick in, about the particular way Dick responds to pain medication. 

“I’m not talking about basic aspirin or anything,” he tells him. “If he ever breaks a bone or… I don’t know, has his wisdom teeth removed, however, do not leave him alone at any point. He… gets upset.” 

Bruce promises to remember this if anything should ever happen that requires Dick to be dozed up with painkillers. Thankfully, despite Dick keeping up his acrobatic skills (sometimes using Bruce’s furniture), it only happens once while Dick is under Bruce’s care. Both the incident and the aftermath left scars in Bruce (and Jason, probably) that still, on occasion, prompt nightmares. 

The second time it happens, Dick has moved out of the Manor (officially, at least) and his first ICE contact is his boyfriend. Despite this, Bruce gets a phone call on one Tuesday afternoon. 

“ _You busy?_ ” Dick asks before Bruce has even greeted him. 

“Not particularly,” Bruce says, eyeing the pile of paperwork in front of him. “What’s up?”

“ _Well, uh…”_ Dick hesitates for a moment. _“It turns out I should have my wisdom teeth removed, too. Like… They recommended it last year but it wasn’t totally necessary and now… well. Now it is._ ”

Bruce frowns. “Why did you…? Oh.”

“ _Yeah…_ ” Dick sighs. “ _Listen, uh… Wally doesn’t know. Or, well, he does, but he’s never experienced it and I know it’s not… pleasant. I sort of scheduled the appointment a day before his big exam so, uh… Could you take me? I know it’s no more fun for you than it’d be for Wally but at least you know what to expect. I’d owe you._ ”

Wait.

What?

“No.”

“ _...oh. Uh. Okay, I’ll ask Jas…_ ”

“Wait, no! No, that’s not what I meant!” Bruce hurries to say. “I meant you won’t owe me.” 

“ _Right,_ ” Dick says slowly. “ _So, you will take me?_ ”

“Of course! When?” 

“ _The day after tomorrow, at 4. I figured I’d come to the Manor after, so Wally can study in peace._ ”

“I’ll have your room ready,” Bruce promises. 

“ _Thanks. Anyway, I can just walk there after work. Meet you there?_ ” Dick says. 

“Okay.”

“ _Cool. Bye then_.”

“Bye.” 

As he hangs up, Bruce knows he won’t get any paperwork done that day anymore. He tells his secretary to have the rest of the day off as he’ll be heading home, too. He also calls Alfred that he can pick the boys up from school if he hasn’t left yet, and a while later he is parked at the pick-up zone. Tim and Damian are surprised to see him but don’t question it. They do, however, have quite the argument about who gets the front seat, until Bruce forces them both to the back. 

He's trying to distract himself by keeping busy with something less boring than work. Listening to boys' bickering certainly helps to keep his mind from Thursday. That is, until, they get home and they both disappear into their own rooms, leaving Bruce alone with his thoughts.

He hopes that maybe, _maybe_ , it won’t be like the last time. It has been over 8 years. Maybe something’s changed. 

His hopes are dashed two days later. 

Dick’s quiet as Bruce leads him to the car. He helps Dick to the front seat and quickly rounds the front to the driver’s side. Dick’s looking at the roof with glazed eyes. 

Dick only stops talking to listen, so his silence is unnerving. It’s only when Bruce takes a turn that takes them to the highway that he says something. 

“You’re not taking me home?”

He sounds sober, but Bruce knows better. 

“You’re coming to the Manor, remember?”

“Why?”

“Wally needs to study,” Bruce decides to say instead of ‘you didn’t want your boyfriend to see you like this’. 

“Right. Yeah.” Dick falls silent again for almost 10 minutes. His eyes are closed, and Bruce hopes that he’s somehow managed to fall asleep. “Wally is so smart.”

Not asleep then. “I’m sure he is.” 

“He has an exam. He needs to study. That’s why he’s not here. Not because… not because he doesn’t love me.”

It almost sounds like Dick is trying to convince himself. His eyes are still closed but his forehead is creased in a deep frown. 

“Of course Wally loves you,” Bruce says. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah… Yeah. Yeah,” Dick says but he doesn’t sound sure. 

“We all love you. Jason, Tim, Damian, and Alfred. And me. All of us, okay?”

“You didn’t love me when I dropped out of college,” Dick mumbles. 

Oh God. 

“I loved you even then. I promise.”

“Wally has an exam,” Dick says again. “I hate exams. That’s why I dropped out. Not because I’m not smart. But because I hate exams. Too quiet.”

Bruce stops himself from sighing and keeps his eyes on the road. “I know you’re smart, chum.” 

“But you didn’t like it when I dropped out.”

It was one of their biggest arguments to date, so Bruce doesn’t bother denying it. “You’re doing what you love now,” he says. 

It’s true. Dick truly does enjoy teaching gymnastics and acrobatics to kids and teenagers. He could have been an Olympic level gymnast himself if Gotham Academy coaches were to be believed, had he not firmly decided to never use his talents to compete. So Bruce is honestly not disappointed at his son’s decision to not finish his Bachelor’s Degree anymore. He had always, on some level, known that Dick would not want to follow in his footsteps to take over the business. 

“I failed you.”

There are tears in Dick’s voice and Bruce mentally prepares himself for the worst of Dick’s slump. 

“No, chum, you didn’t. You followed your own guts. If anything, I failed _you_.” 

Dick shakes his head. “I fail everyone.”

“Hey, that’s not…”

“Why am I _like_ this?” Dick sobs out. “I can’t even… I can’t handle a dentist thing, I…”

“Chum, listen to me. Everyone reacts differently to the meds they give you, okay? You can’t help this,” Bruce says. “Don’t touch your mouth!” 

“It feels weird.” 

“I know. We’ll change the gauze when we get home.”

“I hate this,” Dick mumbles. “I feel so… so… _sad_. And confused. I… I…”

“What?” Bruce prompts when Dick stumbles on his words. 

“I hear my Mom. In my head. She’s… she’s telling me I’m being pathetic.”

“That’s not real,” Bruce says immediately. “Dick, it’s not real. She’d never say that. I never even met her but even I know she wouldn’t say that.” 

“I don’t… It’s…” Dick hiccups. “I don’t really remember… what she sounds like. Anymore…” His voice breaks. “And yet I know it’s her, telling me to tough it up.” He puts his hands on his face and groans. “God, I’m such a… I’m such a horrible son! I can’t remember! They’re fading, they…”

“I can’t remember either,” Bruce says because Jesus, he can’t listen to Dick hating himself. “You’re not a horrible son, Dick. Definitely not. Not to them or to me. It just… happens. Our minds can only hold onto something for so long. It’s not your fault.”

He’s repeating Quinzel’s words but at least they seem to calm Dick down a little bit. That, or his confession. 

“I don’t want to feel like this,” Dick whispers. 

“It won’t last long. I’ll be here the whole time.” 

The rest of the ride is quiet but it is such miserable silence that it does not improve Bruce's mood much. At least, this time, they’ve avoided a complete breakdown and Bruce fully intends to keep it that way. 

The universe is really working against him, though.

Jason has just parked his bike in front of the Manor’s steps when Bruce and Dick arrive. As Dick steps out of the car, his forlorn expression prompts Jason to ask: “Whoa, why the long face, Dickface? Did Wally break up with you?”

Dick freezes. Bruce freezes. Jason stares. 

“Wait. Shit, did he?”

“Wally… broke up with me?” 

“Dick, calm do…”

“ _Wally broke up with me?_ ”

It is such a shriek that Jason actually takes a small step back. It’s then that he sees the bloody gauze sticking out of Dick’s mouth. His eyes go wide, and he mumbles out a ‘fuck’. 

“No! Dick, no!” he says out loud. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t realize. I was just joking, you and Wally are fine!” 

Dick is practically hyperventilating now, which can’t be good for his wounds, and he falls on his knees onto the gravel. Bruce falls down next to him and guides his head between his knees, which is probably not the best position while he’s bleeding but first things first. 

“Breathe, chum. Breathe. Slow and steady. You’re fine. Wally didn’t break up with you. Jason didn’t mean it.” 

“He - he should. He should. He should,” Dick sobbed out. 

“No, he loves you,” Bruce told him. “Dick, you have to breathe.” 

“I have to… call him. Call him, tell him to…” 

“You’re not breaking up,” Jason says. He’s kneeling down now, too. “You’re not breaking up because if you do, what hope is there for the rest of us? You’re the perfect couple.” 

“No, no, I’m not…” 

“You are more than good enough for him,” Jason cuts Dick off, apparently guessing what Dick was about to say. “Listen to B now and breathe.” 

It takes a good five minutes to take Dick’s breathing to steady out. Tim and Damian are out on the steps by then, too, but they quickly go back inside when Bruce helps Dick to stand up. 

“I’m so sorry, Dick,” Jason says when Dick is coherent enough to take it in. “I had no idea. Tim just texted me to come watch a movie.” 

“It’s okay, Jay,” Dick says. He sounds worn out. “Is there pudding?” 

Tim and Damian have the pile of blankets ready by the time Bruce leads Dick to the living room. He hears Jason say ‘have you studied enough?’ behind him and is pretty sure he should expect a visit from a certain redhead soon. 

Bruce settles Dick onto the couch and then goes to fetch him an ice pack. When he comes back, Damian’s cuddled to Dick’s side while Jason holds his legs and Tim is turning on the movie. It’s the one with the sloth again. Bruce hands Dick the ice pack and then settles onto the familiar armchair. Tim gets a pillow from another one, settles it down in front of the couch, and leans against Jason’s legs, close enough that he can hold Dick’s hand. 

They’re half-way through the movie when Alfred goes to answer the door. Dick’s too out of it to react until he sees Wally, who comes in with ‘hey, babe’ and leans down to kiss his forehead in full view of the family. 

“But… The exam, you…” 

“If I study any more, my head will explode and I’ll forget everything,” Wally says. “I could definitely use a movie break. Jason told me you’re having an Ice Age marathon?”

Only then Bruce realizes he never knew the name of the movie before. 

Damian moves enough that Wally can squeeze in to hug Dick from the other side. Alfred brings in a plate of pudding. 

By the time the second movie starts, Damian is asleep and Dick is not far from it. Jason’s reading so only Tim and Wally are really watching the movie. Wally is holding the ice pack on Dick’s cheek while stroking his hair with his other hand. Jason absentmindedly rubs his brother’s feet and Tim plays with his fingers. It’s almost as if they are silently telling him that they are _there_. 

Bruce is almost - just almost - sad that his sons have no more wisdom teeth to be pulled out.

**Author's Note:**

> They were all visited by the Tooth Fairy, I promise! :D


End file.
